The Amazons of Mistral
by valkurion-universe
Summary: The world has ended, the jungle taking back fallen Vale and Mistral as Salem turns her attention to conquering Atlas and then onto Vacuo and Menagerie. Only a few holdouts remain in the overgrowth of the lost two kingdoms. But rumours tell of hidden camps and outposts. On a mission to find them, Jaune Arc embarks on a mission to find them...


_AN: This was a commission from Awesome-est! If you want to commission something from me, please PM me!_

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 **The Amazons of Mistral**

 **Chapter 1 - Pray (Song from RvB Season 10)**

The world had ended.

Vale, during the Fall of Beacon, where the headmaster, Ozpin had died and the CCT had been destroyed, shrouding the whole of Remnant in perpetual silence, had been the start. None of the Kingdoms could effectively communicate. Only Atlas had another system in place to effectively keep cross-continental communications up, but the Witch Salem had her claws interjected there too.

Mr Watts, along with others in his entourage sank their teeth into legislation with fear and corruption, he had stalled enough to ensure that while Atlas stood idly by, Mistral soon fell too. Lionheart and his cell struck against Haven Academy and cut off all Huntsmen and Huntresses from the rest of the world. Vacuo and Menagerie were left to their own devices, but Vale and Mistral were lost, completely to the Grimm and lush vegetation as those kingdoms slowly slipped into utter ruin.

Nature had taken back the two kingdoms man and faunus had fled in the double cataclysm that had put them at risk and made them so afraid to keep living there. And with nature overrunning both Vale and Mistral, the Grimm wandered in with the other wild animals, attracted to nature's shunned wrath at the people for fleeing. So much civilisation now lay in crumbling ruined, and green jungles stretching from the west of Vale to the eastern parts of Mistral. The whole swath of it now was verdant fields, villages swallowed whole by the ensuing jungle, and ruins of cities that had been taken back by the greenery of nature.

While it had only been a few years since the 'apocalypse' that had swallowed almost half of the world already, nature had expanded and invaded Vale and Mistral in such a rapid fashion. It was going berserk, the masses of scientists and others had deduced. Expedited by something that was unseen. Salem's magic perhaps? No one knew for sure.

All that was known, was that nature was coming increasingly quickly for all mankind had fled. And with it, the Grimm, twisted and more evil than before, taking territory all over the kingdoms.

Only increasing the rate at which Salem was so close to achieving victory over all the land that was still owned and inhabited by a civilisation.

Countless had lost lives, made camps to blend in with the jungles, or felt to Atlas, Vacuo, or any of the islands between the kingdoms. Patch had seen a vast population increase, Menagerie had seen its faunus habitants almost double and Atlas had been rising into the skies to escape the massive influx of peoples.

Rumour even had it that the Schnee Dust Company was building a refuge - a floating city in the skies to stop the swamping of Atlas and her resources. But that said, Vale and Mistral still had cities and outposts around to keep the peoples spread out to a healthy density.

But deep in the jungle of Mistral, there still lay numerous peoples and cultures. Years on since the Fall of Vale and Mistral, more and more people led expeditions into their once owned cities to find anything they could take back.

Jaune Arc stepped lively, separated from his party of hired Huntsmen and fellow explorers, clutching his feeble sword in hand and his shield in the other. No matter how much better he was at combat with these weapons, the blonde man knew that he still would not stand a chance if one of the larger wild Grimm came upon him. Something like an Ursa, or Beowulf, or as was known in these parts, a Beringal or Deathstalker. In extreme cases, deep into the jungles of Mistral as this, reports were coming in of new and even more deadly Grimm - Giant Ogres, Rocked Monsters and new variants on the old, snake-like creatures and vipers, anacondas. All were documented in these areas, and Jaune was wary of meeting his unexpected end at the hands of these new and exotic beasts.

The blonde valued his life above all else, even others, and he was not ready to greet death without finding what he came into the jungles to search for.

There had been talk of outposts deep in the jungles, from coast to coast, surviving alone and without the aid of the kingdoms still barely standing from Salem. Jaune needed to find these people, and bring them out of the combat zone and back to civilisation. Even without the rest of his team.

He knew Ren would find his way either to the objectives without him, or out of the thick green and back to the boats at the coast of Central Bay, weeks to the west where the convoy would be waiting just off of the beach. The rest of the team would make it there too - Neptune was capable enough to keep them together and surviving. But Jaune worried for himself. He hadn't slept in two days save being prey for colossal Grimm ready to feast on his terrified flesh at the mere sight of them.

Jaune needed to keep pushing forward, pushing the thoughts of impending doom out of his mind and clutching his sword harshly in his hands. He was determined, brave, if only a little too far in over his head by a mild amount. Both Coco and Velvet would tell him that this mission was far too dangerous for him, but he was a little adamant to be let on it.

And now he was stranded in the jungle alone, with limited supplies in the pack hoisted over his shoulders and with daylight burning out once again on him.

Soon, Jaune came to a clearing, small, covered in a thick shrubbery of exotic trees, dark in wood and nature and the smell filled him as soon as he cleared the small end of the roots of more trees. The overhead was still shrouded in the dense green of leaves and branches, extending up and up until he could barely make it out. The trees were so mighty and tall, it was the perfect scene of a small scrape. As soon as Jaune took in his surroundings, he made it out.

The remains of a small bolo, tucked in the green on the ground, it had been tossed and snapped, probably around the legs of a Grimm. But it was certain evidence of a Huntsman or Huntress. Someone who was living here, who was hunting here. And there was very little chance it was one of his comrades. It was crude and woven together, leather tore from a horse and string threaded out of vines from the trees around him the way it blended in with the floor.

It was homemade, organic, fashioned by someone who was living here, in the jungle.

Jaune flinched. There came a sudden noise above him, but before he could even react to lift up his shield to defend himself, a blur of red and tanned brown fell upon him from high in the air.

It knocked him to the floor and back some paces before he finally looked up to see what had fallen on him - a woman, her hair the deepest and brightest of red, pyrrhic in nature and with more of it held up around her than the tan of her exposed and bare flesh. She was wearing very little, and what she was covered her chest, her centre and wrapped her exposed, toned and intense biceps and skins. She carried a long spear, accented with red metallic alloy and with the faintest touch of stained and roughed up gold, and around her right thigh, there was a strap for a crude flint knife.

Her hair, so massive and red, something out of a fairy tale as the Amazon looked directly at Jaune with swimming and furious emerald eyes. He knew this woman. He had known her years ago, the memory of her as old as this world he was now living in. As he focused on her exposed features, her tanned flesh that looked almost mocha brown before her amazingly emerald eyes.

Those eyes. They burned with a defiant and colossal fury that stalked Jaune as he stood to his wobbling knees. Yes, he knew this woman.

"P-Pyrrha?!" Jaune asked, incredulous.

Her eyes deepened further. She was angry, no, she was furious, that was evident in her expression and the look of pure anger in her eyes and mouth. If Jaune was ecstatic to see her, she was livid to see his face.

"Pyrrha… It's me… It's Jaune!" The blonde beckoned to her, remembering the year at Beacon, the time he shared with her, as she spun her spear around in a flourish. He could see the remains of Milo worked into the staff and the spear's tip of a blade. "Remember me? Jaune!" The blonde called at her again, dropping his sword and shield to the ground and gesturing a lot when his hands.

But the redhead with more hair than he remembered didn't say anything until she was closer, her face still stone cold and furious to see him. But as it was back in the day, he didn't pay any attention to her or how she was looking or feeling. He was still clueless of her until she spoke.

"I remember you, Jaune." She spoke, deeper and harsher than usual. Her eyes flared and she swatted at him with the butt of her staff, knocking him against the trunk of a mighty tree. Already his nose was bloody, spewing red all over his mouth and chin from where she'd hit him with the butt of her wooden staff.

Quickly he scrambled around and away from her, fearful. What had happened to her? Why was she hitting him? What had he done?

"I am surprised you even remember me though. I did not see you at all during the fall. You ran didn't you?" She asked him, spinning her spear again in her strong hands. She was so much stronger now, he could see that in her bulging biceps, chiselled lower abdomen that looked like steel when she took up a fighting stance. And she reeked of it. She smelled so strong, so powerful in her scent. The smell came from not her hygienic state, but from how strong she was. It was such a unique and strong scent, overwhelming with power.

Even her eyebrows looked strong. Jaune was no match against her, he knew this. Even back then, in Beacon, the boy stood no chance ever against the most powerful Huntress in their year. Now she was older, twenty years old like he. If she wanted it, he'd die at her hands.

"Pyrrha… Are you…" He asked, not even managing to out the whole question.

Whatever it was, Pyrrha understood it. She looked at him intensely, not needing to know what he was going to ask. "Yes, Jaune. Yes, I am." She told him.

Jaune ran, as fast as he could, as fast as his legs could take him in his cargo shorts, but of course, he was nowhere near quick enough for her. All his practise in running away could not even aid him in outrunning Pyrrha the Amazon.

The redhead leapt into the air, far upwards and over him, past him and bringing down the tip of her speak into his bare leg. She stabbed him roughly, quickly with a jab that went through the full width of his shin, creating a gaping wound, sizable, from which he bled. Thick crimson spewed from his wound and he fell to the floor, tumbling past the unamused and still seething Pyrrha. The squeal from him made her all the more furious.

She leapt again, shifting the length of her spear in her hands and plunged it down and into Jaune's other leg, into his trainered foot. It pinned him to the floor, this spear sticking out of his limb. His scream echoed throughout the jungle but Pyrrha didn't care.

Pyrrha didn't care, to Jaune. But to herself, as she trudged alongside him, her breasts held steadfast by the very short cloth tunic around her bust, she did care. She cared that she was finally doing what she wanted to… She was killing him.

"Suicide, or arrogance? I never knew with you, Jaune. But finally, my mistakes will be fixed. I am not sorry." She spoke, harsh and coldly as he cried out, blood seeping from his nose and two stab wounds in his limbs. He was rambling, begging her to let him live, but she wasn't going to. This was Pyrrha, Matriarch Pyrrha, rectifying age-old mistakes she made when she was a humble teenager.

The world had ended, and thus Jaune would end with it too, along with the last thing Pyrrha wanted gone. The mistake from years ago that nearly cost her her life at the hands of Cinder Fall.

"Pyrrha… Please?" Jaune peeped, as she crouched down at his head, the red paint all over glowing to him, her body so expressive but her eyes and face were furious that he was still breathing. "Please?"

"No Jaune. No more favours…" She told him, taking out her knife and sticking it into his back. Then again, and again, again and once more. So many times that she soon forgot how many, until the blood was all over her hands as if she had been trying to close up his wounds and heal him. And years ago she would have. But the world had ended and therefore the old lives they had all led had ended too.

This was Pyrrha without Jaune, without Beacon, without restraint that may cost her her life. And certainly without mercy for someone who would leave her for dead soon as danger arose. Pyrrha was wild now, giving fully into her primal instincts of survival as she stabbed him in the back so many times like he had done to her so many times when they were in school together. She was as real as ever, now that he was gone.

Jaune laid dead, and Pyrrha stood, brushing her massive mane of beautiful red hair back, mixing in the darker red of Jaune's blood. The reds blended and Pyrrha finally felt like she could breathe. She had not expected to ever see Jaune again but the days of stalking him, with trips running back between her camp had paid off now. He was dead, by her hands and she felt better inside, whole at last.

More footsteps followed, hurdling towards Pyrrha through the jungle. She heard the shifting in the trees that would sound like wind to anyone else, but not to her. She knew they were the heated and quickened running of her followers.

The rest of the Amazons were coming.

Blonde hair was at the helm of the rest of the women, bright, luminous yellow accompanied by the strong scent of Yang Xiao Long - Pyrrha's second. She led the small group of Amazons in by foot, all women, as were the rest of the small settlement, and all Huntresses, but not in the traditional sense, they were new, more feral, primal, refined and stronger than anyone else in civilisation. The harsh conditioning of the wilds had leaned the refinement of strength to all the women. Yang was one of the strongest so distinctive to the Matriarch Pyrrha, it was impossible she could smell anyone else leading the pack.

Yang was like a jackal, a wildcat with teeth sharp and fingers like claws as she held the wooden body of her dual bladed staff steadfast as soon as she made out the plume of red that was Pyrrha's hair. Her trappings were less than her Matriarch. While Pyrrha's pelts that covered her breasts and lower lips were wide and long as could be managed, Yang's were less so, to save on the materials and to adjust for the blonde's temperature during combat. Often Yang would become engulfed in flame, charring away her cloths. Thus, she wore sparse coverings around her breasts, and a shorter pelt to hide her folds, with wrappings around her lower shins and ankles. Bear skins covered her wrists with clawed knuckles reminiscent of the weapons of old. And almost her entire left arm and chest were covered in yellow tribal paint, like gorgeous flames. As she stopped, smelling the supreme musk of the dominant leader, mixed in with a foreign odour, Yang snarled. She could smell Jaune all over the clearing, only not realising who it was.

The stench of him was pathetic, fearful, terrified, and it made Yang flinch as she looked down at his dead body. Her intense muscles laxed and she stood up straight. Arslan, Nora and her smaller sister Ruby at her back all stood their ground and observed the surrounding jungle, sensing movement far away.

They remained vigilant in case of stampeding Grimm. There were too many of the beasts around with more involvement from idiotic explorers such as Jaune. Still, no one had realised who he was as he laid dead in the pool of gorgeous blood.

"I knew there was nothing to worry about. But you have been gone for days." Yang told her Matriarch, smiling as she did. Pyrrha still seemed unimpressed by the lack of severity in Yang sometimes.

But many agreed Yang still had an air of nonchalant jokiness within her. Arslan had put forth the notion that it was hardwired. Ruby agreed.

"Where is Glynda?" Pyrrha asked, assuming all of her hunting party would be together.

From the harsh green above them came rustling, until two more bodies fell from the high line of branches and leaves. Glynda Goodwitch and her own consort warrior, Emerald Sustrai. Three of Pyrrha's most tenacious of warriors. Those who would fight back Grimm for days come hell or high water. They were the fists while Pyrrha, Yang, Nora and Arslan were the swords they wielded. Glynda was more covered than the rest of her tribal maidens, but even still, above the bust she wore nothing and her glasses were relics of a bygone world.

"I see you took care of the intruder, Matriarch," Glynda noted, looking down at the dead body. She turned her nose up at the reeking and repulsive stench of the boy. He smelled unwelcome and foreign even before Pyrrha had run him through (counting, one could see it would well above twenty times), now he was simply stinking to the women. Glynda was repulsed by the reek. "Must we speak around this rotting pile of meat?" She followed, up turning him after Pyrrha had taken her spear back.

The rest of the women saw his face, his blue eyes and bright cream-blonde hair. They saw the face of the dead Jaune Arc. And they heard several small gasps. One from Ruby, another from Emerald.

Pyrrha, Glynda, Yang, Nora and Arslan were all unphased. Even seeing the face of someone who reminded them of the old world.

Yang eyed her Matriarch with deep lilac eyes, a hint of red inside them that had been there for years now. "You killed him?" The blonde asked - her hair was almost as abundant and long as Pyrrha's and had become a lot dirtier even with washing. She toyed with his cheek with the tip of one of her dual blades. She knew who he was, but didn't care. The only thing about Jaune now that phased any of them really was the smell. "He's going to attract a lot of attention if we leave him here to rot. You know that Matriarch. So close to camp they'll wander into our territory." Yang reminded her.

But the redhead had already thought of that. "Hence why I knew you were all coming. Arslan and Ruby will carry him back to the encampment. And he will be burnt at sundown." She told them all, looking around at her followers.

With a brisk foot at her step, Pyrrha let them through the clearing back into the jungle into the direction of the small camp. But Emerald remained a second.

"What if there are more? He could have been part of an expedition. What if more pass this way, Pyrrha?" The black and skin covered warrior with green tribal paint around her cheeks asked, ready to transport the body.

Pyrrha eyed her with the powerful eyes. Her musk grew all the more potent, making Yang and Glynda (her second and third respectively) both feel the pulse of growing need. The strong and husky Matriarch did it to make herself far more imposing, iron in her leadership. Not trying, a simple and natural reaction, amplified by the habitat around them and the years of adjusting to a tribal society. The fear and order inducing look of the redhead was all needed to make Emerald feel regret and shame over her question. Her presence so commanding she made the women feel some degrees of lust for her there and then.

"If more come, we kill them. They may not know the rules of this land now but we will enforce them, Emerald. No male will ever threaten us. None. And if the women come. They will have but a choice as you, Reese, Arslan and others did. You know our laws.

"If you want to question my leadership, Emerald, remember what you must do to be spared the punishment of failing to take the mantle," Pyrrha told her, ironclad and unyielding as she stood with spear in hand.

Emerald almost whimpered silently, her red eyes dulling and rolling over along with her once rival body language. She was backing down heavily in her stance - her shoulders softened and her muscles all over relaxed to the point of slugging. She heard her leader and flashbacks of her initiation and induction into the camp flew throughout her mind. What she had done and been subjected to back at the camp at the hands (and lower dripping folds) of the Matriarch she had now dared to question. She retreated inside of herself and stopped. "I apologise, Matriarch. I didn't mean-"

"You are forgiven, Emerald. But stay your tongue at times like these unless you are prepared to use it for me as you did last time…" Pyrrha alluded, turning back to Yang. "To the camp."

"Yes, Matriarch." Yang settled and looked at those over the body, nodding to them.

Before they hoisted Jaune's lifeless frame over their shoulders, the ginger Nora - her hair much longer than ever before - leaned over him and spat on the blonde lad's face. "Good riddance." She swore to him, and let the others carry him.

Once again she led the way back to camp with two of them carrying Jaune's corpse on their shoulders.

While their small camp was well built, sturdy and tightly knit, perfectly balanced in the hierarchy that had been established over the years, it had taken long to get to where they were. Many of them had started out as wanderers after the Fall of Vale, travelling by foot across the long roads into Mistral in hopes of saving the world before Salem could take hold of two kingdoms. But they were already too late back then. Lionheart had plunged Mistral into darkness too. And when nature stampeded through the ruins, Glynda, Pyrrha, Yang, Ruby and Nora had all been there to see it happen. To see those who fell as they attempted to flee to Atlas. Those who did - The Schnee Sisters, teams the women knew from Vytal, Blake. They were lucky, but not everyone was so lucky, a lot were stranded, killed, or did as the Amazons did; adjusted to a primal life in the jungles of Mistral as nature rampaged through the ruins.

Glynda led them at first, trying to create a small haven for them inside the overgrowth, free from men and civilisation, slowly reverting back to their primal ways of life. The good witch of Vale helped them all to survive, to live, just live, together, as they tried and failed to contact civilisation once again. Watts and Salem foiled the attempts every time as they stalled Atlas down to snail's pace. She helped them fight the Grimm, to destroy them and live around the unrelenting and endless masses of them as they all subserved into and stronger still the women grew immensely powerful, tightly together, surviving. Slowly, gradually, all of them grew feral, primal due to their new ways of life, living out of the jungle, hunting and scrounging to survive and live. Often they did fight amongst themselves, twisting into acting more animalistic, to gather some semblance of health and relief, and soon the fighting turned intimate, out of anger, out of desire, out of urges. They grew close together, mated, fucked, anything they could to maintain a good and healthy balance to their group. They fucked more than they fought soon enough, daily, more than daily, they fucked to develop, to grow stronger, and to grow closer and more tightly knit, until they were a haven of women. More joined and slowly Glynda, Pyrrha and Yang constructed a hierarchy revolving around the top seat - which Glynda sat upon as the camp was built.

Pyrrha knew what she would face if her challenge of Glynda's rule failed. She would be subjected to Glynda's urges, her desires to fuck and rut. But Pyrrha was strong enough to take over. And the rest fell into place.

The years past and the camp grew and became a haven, a paradise for the Amazons. But all newcomers were put to initiation and induction, led by the Matriarch.

The camp was everything a primal and feminine holdout would look like. Solely inhabited by women, slightly feral and all revolving around a hierarchy led by the fierce redhead. Several woven huts surrounded the inner circle, with a large fire pit in the centre of everything. Beyond the hits lay the small crop fields and maintained food stores - the largest of the huts being a storage house for them. There was an enclosed training circle, wrapped in a wall of sharpened logs, it had taken months to craft. All of the small settlement had taken years to fashion, once all of the women had banded together. While that had happened quickly, the hierarchy that had been established now had taken far longer.

Upon reaching the perimeter, Pyrrha saw the camp's lifestyle well at work.

Two of the consorts, May and Reese, fucking, in the middle of the day, near the edge of the camp, legs entwined and the sweat riddling their heated and flaming bodies. Pyrrha smiled as she watched them while walking past. Reese was giving May her all, rubbing her own soaked silk against May's. The waters between their folds emitted such a deep and thick waft, it was sublime to the sense of smell as Pyrrha led her pack to the middle of the village. Pyrrha could hear them as they walked.

"Submit to me! Take it! Take it!" Reese was yelling, over the sound of relentless moaning from May as she struggled to make it out of the mating rut. Reese was a little too much. But May kept fighting, challenging the hold of Reese's legs around her, grinding her dripping, oozing cunt against the folds of her lover. The combined musks from of them of filled the air around them, even trace elements could be made out, and they made Ruby's eyes widen a little as she helped carry Jaune's corpse

So many smells coming from all corners of the camp, the food, the trees and flora, the women, and Jaune rotting in the baking heat of the verdant green.

"Where should we store the body until sundown, Matriarch?" Emerald asked, holding Jaune's legs. She had given Ruby leave to go with Arslan for a fuck in one of the consort huts. The smaller and younger warrior had been expressing a need to mate, to rub herself against a strong pole of womanhood. Arslan had volunteered to fuck her upon arrival. Ruby may have been the youngest, but she had reached the peak of her womanhood and was craving to fuck a lot more lately. Evident by how she draped her hands all over the black lion of a warrior. Ruby's fingers edged for Arslan's fold, her lower folds to feel the nectar inside. The smaller warrior was steaming with lust cravings to fuck.

Both women leapt at the chance for a rough and heated tumble together. Yang smiled when they ran off, kissing passionately while Emerald asked her question.

"Put the body near the Healing Chamber. The smells of Peach's medicines will hopefully drown out his stench." Pyrrha ordered, sighing as they turned and Pyrrha took the tie from her massive pluming tail of red hair. Penelope Peach was the camp's Healer, a role she elected to take when first joining. She too had suffered through the initiation when Glynda was in command.

The Matriarch stopped a moment as Emerald dispersed to store Jaune, while Glynda left for her own apothecary hut, to continue conducting her experiments into dust and other things.

"Yang, tell the women I am not to be disturbed until I return from the Tide Pool. I need a soak this evening." Pyrrha told her trusted second, rubbing the area around her red painted shoulder. Her arm was pained a little.

"Is that understood, Yang?" The redhead asked again, her hair flowing down like a river of pyrrhic red down the length of her strong and chiselled back. As she walked, without even accepting the answer 'yes' from Yang as the blonde jackal smiled, Pyrrha's hands reached behind her, taking apart the clasp of her pelt chest coverings. She took them apart with ease and pulled them off of her firm and beauteous chest.

"Yes, Matriarch."

Yang's eyes dipped into longing crimson as she eyed her Matriarch's frame, her succulent body slightly glazed with the sweat of the verdant and heated jungle. She was magnetised to seeing Pyrrha as she undressed while walking to the Pool, the red eyes following the tanned body of the beauteous Matriarch. Those steeled abs, her chest, the sweat beading and trickling down from her lower abdomen from the heat of the vegetation all around her. The tense and alluring biceps that made Yang's heart pounce and her core explode into a flurry of want. She could already feel her breath hitch as she watched Pyrrha walk, eying every last detail until Yang felt her silk drip slightly. It was purely her Matriarch and her body, her burning and flaming frame that made Yang die a little as she wanted to rut with the woman. Her perfect chest, well-formed breasts that seemed perfectly flawless as they strutted with a slight bounce. With the cloth gone, they seemed to become even bigger once nude. Yang could only recall how they felt in her hands, from the times she and Pyrrha had mated in flaming ecstasy. Yang now needed that feeling, that heat, around her cunt once more.

On her way to the Tide Pool, Pyrrha realised her nipples were already hard, perked and willing, with the rest of her strained and a little exhausted. The day of stalking her prey and killing had made her a little tired. A soak was what she needed, as well as an added fuck. To say she was longing, horny for a mate in the waters was an understatement. She was longing from the stalk, alone for days, Pyrrha wanted a woman between her legs, tasting on the build-up of stinking and juicy wetness in her silk. Her least mate had not pleased her enough. She needed more.

She hit the water soon enough, pulling off her leg and arm wrappings, her long lower shawl tossed upon the rocks until she stood completely naked in the small pool, her lower folds soothing to the sound of running water and her own blissful feelings. She felt at peace finally, the lukewarm water from the small falls falling upon her shoulders wistfully. Pyrrha loved it as the water soaked through her massive collection of red hair.

The bliss fell upon her for a time, during which Pyrrha closed her eyes and listened to the light sounds of the surrounding jungle. The world may have ended, but in the encroaching expanse of the reclaiming nature, much beauty had taken place in the ruins of the old kingdom of Mistral.

Pyrrha felt oddly at home here. The place that had supposedly become her home for years now. It was better than the old, she decided that.

More time passed, Pyrrha resting in the Tide Pool, simply letting the light falls wash down upon her, pure bliss. The sounds of with wildlife letting it itself be heard, the abundant and serene feeling of the lush nature around her. The scents and smells of returns flora that man had neglected. She felt purely at peace, the running water lulling into her mind as she wondered if now was the time. The Matriarch slid hands down her bountiful breasts, washing herself mildly in the lukewarm falls as the sounds blissfully traversed her ears. It was just so peaceful to the redheaded leader.

But Pyrrha soon made her out, smelling her unique and changed scent. It was not like her usual aroma, the strong and charred odour that usually came from her, but it was different this time, mellow and lighter. Soothing because of how she was feeling already. And Pyrrha could smell already that she was dripping, her nipples hard from her musk, and the waters of her sacred shores. And Pyrrha knew why she was here, what she wanted.

She was her second after all. Yang wanted Pyrrha. Wanted to mate with her, fuck with her. She wanted her Matriarch to take her and make her hers once more.

Sex was a battle, a rough and hardened campaign of bodies fighting for release and control over her partner. As the blonde approached the Tide Pool, fingering her silk with two fingers and clutching a breast as she gazed upon Pyrrha, the redhead smiled.

"You are impatient aren't you?" Pyrrha asked her second.

Yang kept smiling, licking her wet fingers as she waded into the lukewarm pool. "You haven't fucked me all day. What am I to do without you, Matriarch?"


End file.
